Chapter 1

People call me the Voidhound. I've also been called Ace. I'm known as one of the most dangerous crime bosses in the galaxy. I may not be a Sith Lord, but I have an empire of my own that strikes fear in the hearts of millions. I have operations from Coruscant to Hoth, taking what should be mine from the Republic and the Empire alike. Lightsabers of all the colors of the rainbow want to cut through my throat and pikes galore would love to bring my severed head to their ruler bearing their flag. The long list of legends told about me include that I am a freak science experiment given the tenacity of a Zabrak, the wisdom of a Chiss, the strength of a Wookiee, the hearing of a Bith, and the greed of a Hutt. I think this legend is my favorite, but it is far from the truth. I wasn't born this way. My story had a beginning and did not involve crime at all. In fact, I was just a simple law-abiding business owner. That is until I met Andronikos Revel.

My actual name is Fen-dur Stratoblaster. Pretty cool, huh? Only my close associates get to know that. My alias gives me a persona, a persona that I did not choose, but was given to me. It's better that way. After my former employer was killed by the Empire on Telos (don't worry, he was an honest bounty hunter, government contracts only) and the people I considered family went their separate ways, I found myself doing similar work being a mechanic for a swoop bike racer on Tatooine. I worked hard to make ends meet, but I was able to work my way up to owning my own business where all the best racers would take their bikes to get tuned-up or fixed.

I decided one night to head to the cantina. I thought a couple rounds of Sabacc and a pint would help calm the stress of the Anchorhead Open that coming weekend. Tatooine lacks luxury, but this cantina was as close as you can find on this rock. I took my usual seat at a table in the corner. In my humble beginnings, I was probably known as the dusty Twi'lek hermit, but that's only speculation. It adds to my rags to riches story. Maybe had I ever talked to anyone at the cantina I would have been pleasantly surprised. And for the first time in three years drinking here at this cantina, something compelled me to change that that night.

Over at the counter, I spotted a gorgeous girl sitting over at the counter talking to the bartender. She was human, with long dark hair and a perfect figure. At this point in time, I wasn't the suave ladies' man I am now. I spent a lot of lonely nights, Twi'lek dancers weren't really my thing and I was very shy. But she was beautiful enough to maybe get to know a little better. I found humans more attractive than those of my own species anyway. My nerves got the best of me, however, and I just sat and drank alone.

I kept my eye on her though. She was candy for eyes that only taste sand. Sand and scrap metal. I was perfectly content with merely watching, but what happened next changed my life forever. Two large men, hunters by the looks of them, also noticed the young dame. A rugged human and a ghastly Devaronian sat on opposite sides of her and began to caress her back and offer to buy her a drink. I watched as she swung away the hand of the human and spit in the face of the Devaronian. Slamming his fists on the counter, the Devaronian stood up and began to yell obscenities even now I wouldn't want to hear. The human stood up too, and violently grabbed her by the arm.

I could bear to watch no longer. Standing in a shaky rage, I yelled, "Stop it!"

Stop it? That was the best I could come up with? Surely I would have to work on my dramatic rescues later. Even more evidently because the two thugs didn't even acknowledge I said anything, continuing to grab and prod this poor damsel.

I stood in a stupor. I could just sit down and pretend I had never said anything, but it would be so embarrassing had someone from across the cantina had seen me stand up and then watched me timidly sit back down. I had to approach these brutes. I strutted across the room, broadening my shoulders and letting my arms swing with my stride.

I tapped the large human on the shoulder and as he turned his head to look at me, I decked him right in the nose. He stumbled back holding his face, when all of a sudden he began to sob. Tears began flowing from his face as his Devaronian buddy began to console him. They left the cantina embracing each other, rubbing each other's back for comfort.

And that was a total lie. Did you actually believe that? I had you fooled, admit it! Here's what really happened:

After I strutted over to the scoundrels, I tapped the large human on the shoulder. That part was true. The rest made me sound like a complete nerf-herder.

"Hey, leave her alone, alright?" I mumbled softly.

"Yeah, and what if I don't?" growled the mangy thug.

"What're you gonna do about it, little man?" scoffed the Devaronian.

Could this conversation get anymore cheesy? I say this not only because it's true, but also because I'm trying to delay telling what happened next.

"I'm going to hurt you, really bad," I squeaked. I'm sure you are skeptical now that I am currently the most feared criminal in the galaxy. Shamefully, however, that's what I actually said.

"Why don't you prove it?" the human sneered, half grinning and exposing his nasty, rotting teeth. He shoved me in the chest, knocking me backwards. I'm not sure if it was fortunate or unfortunate that I caught myself on a chair to keep myself from falling to the ground. I would end up losing any pride I had shortly.

I lunged at him, propelling myself by pushing off from the chair. The human dodged out of the way and as I fell forward toward the counter, the Devaronian grabbed hold of me and bound my arms around my back. As I was being held back, the human began to beat me senseless. A jab to the cheek, a left hook to the temple, an uppercut to the jaw. I was nearly unconscious when the Devaronian let me fall to the floor. They turned me over and through my blurry vision, I could make out the human scowling, pointing a blaster pistol straight at my forehead. I closed my eyes. The story could have ended right here. Well, this story would never have been told had fate not intervened. I heard a blaster shot which I thought would be the last noise I'd ever hear. But it wasn't. When I realized I was still alive, I opened my eyes to see just the ceiling. I managed to turn my head to the side to find the human's cold, dead eyes staring back at me. What just happened?

I heard a low, scratchy growl that sounded even more low and scratchy than the dead man's lying next to me. "You have to the count of three."

I heard the patter of running footsteps that I assumed was the Devaronian's.

I was soon lifted up to my feet and carried over to a bar stool. I expected local law enforcement to have helped take care of these petty trouble-makers, but I was disappointed that I found myself being supported by just another thug. On the bright side, I was also being taken care of by the beautiful damsel in distress. Or was I the damsel in distress now?

"You alright, kid?" asked the man in the low, scratchy voice.

"I think I'll be alright," I mumbled as my brain went in and out of focus.

"Good. I respect a man that can shake it off after getting a beating," he responded. "You got spirit, kid. Taking on two guys you didn't have a prayer to beat to defend a girl. You're either brave or were thinking with the wrong head."

"That's the only one I have that's functioning at the moment," I wheezed. Give me some credit for that witty remark half-unconscious.

"What do you call yourself, kid?" he asked, waving for the bartender to get him a drink.

"Fen-dur. Fen-dur Stratoblaster," I said extending my hand for him to shake. He lightly took my hand and gave a small shake.

"Andronikos Revel. Thanks for sticking up for my friend. I don't express gratitude very often, so consider yourself privileged," he said looking over at me as he hunched over his drink.

"The name's Casey Rix. Let me buy you a few rounds to return the favor," said the damsel no longer in distress. I couldn't believe it. I got beat to a pulp and if it weren't for Andronikos, I would have failed trying to defend her and now she is buying me a drink?

"I don't deserve it, but I can't refuse free drinks," I said with a smirk.

"You're about as good as a blind three=legged womp-rat when it comes to fighting. You were able to stall long enough for me to intervene. The point is you succeeded. What matters are results and even though it was ugly, you got 'em. Consider it mission accomplished," explained Andronikos. I shrugged it off at the time, but those words ended up proving true and useful from this time forward.